


Letters to a Distant Friend

by extremelyperturbed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, M/M, Romantic Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremelyperturbed/pseuds/extremelyperturbed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to this kinkmeme http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/3166.html?replyto=6172254  which asked for fusion with the movie The Lake House, which is about two people who can write each other letters because they're at the same place even though they're separated by three years of time.  I had to do some tweaks to the request, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to a Distant Friend

Quiet, that’s what I need, thought Hannibal as he drove away from his house with luggage in the trunk of his car. Luckily, Mrs. Komeda had a vacation house near Deep Creek Lake that she said would be perfect for anybody wanting quiet. Hannibal had asked her if he was displacing her from her usual winter haunts to which she replied that she usually went out of the country for her winter vacation and that she usually rented it out. 

Once there, he saw that the house was built literally over the lake with a dock leading to the front door and that most of the walls were made of clear glass. He raised an eyebrow at the avant-garde design but also noticed that there were curtains installed for privacy’s sake. He also noticed a mail box near the dock. 

After getting his luggage out of the trunk and walking down the dock towards the house, Hannibal pulled out the house key she had given him. He opened the door and walked in. After putting down his suitcases, he locked the door behind him and walked around the house. He was surprised to see that instead of being stripped bare, there were still materials and signs of the previous renter. 

Curious, he began flipping through the notebooks and sketches he found in the study. He quickly ascertained that the notebooks used to belong to someone named Will Graham and that he was either someone who had been working on solving a series of murders or someone doing very extensive research for a very realistic mystery novel. He put the papers down and looked through the rest of the house. He noticed that in a storage room that there were a few fishing poles with hand-made lures. And in bedroom, there were still threadbare T-shirts and folded underwear in the dresser. It looks, thought Hannibal, as if he had left suddenly but intended to come back. 

He walked to the bathroom and found a half-empty bottle of aftershave that smelled so distasteful he threw it in the garbage. Based on what he knew, he had a sense of who the man was. The man was someone more comfortable in the outdoors than in social settings and if the notes were any indication, someone with a fascinating and unusual mind. If Mrs. Komeda hadn’t been on vacation in Australia, he would’ve called to ask for more information about him. 

In any case, he would write her a thank you note for letting him stay here to let him unwind and to ask a few questions about what had been left behind before making dinner.

As it was winter, Hannibal decorated his salad with seasonal fruits like mandarin segments, persimmon slices and pomegranate seeds and top it off with a creamy dressing flavored with citron. He also had a sweet potato that he baked and prepared simply with a touch of butter and a little cinnamon. For the main course, he had grilled pieces of beef heart he had given a spice rub then put on skewers and further flavored with a salsa verde after cooking. 

While he was eating, it began to rain and the patter of droplets striking the roof left Hannibal in a relaxed and contemplative mood. He thought about his desire for solitude. It wasn’t that he wanted to be alone but that he preferred being alone to being forced to keep company with those that he had no interest in.

His thoughts wandered to the man who had been here previously then he chided himself for fantasizing about someone he would probably never meet. He went into the living room where the baby grand piano was and began to play something quiet and soothing, variations on a lullaby. 

***  
It was during the afternoon of the next day that it happened. Since the sun had come out, Hannibal had gone on a bracing walk around the lake when he saw the flag of the mailbox go down by itself. Surprised, he stopped, looked around and then continued walking toward the mailbox, figuring that either a strong wind had caused it to fall over or that something had come loose. 

He looked inside only to see the postcard he had put in the mailbox to be sent to Mrs. Komeda had a piece of writing paper attached to it that said:

“Dear Mr. Lecter, I don’t know who you are but Mrs. Komeda has already rented this house to me for the rest of the month. It may be that she has rented you some other house on the lake front. If you can not find the right house, I suggest that you call her to get the whole thing straightened out.”

But what really surprised him was the signature on the letter. It was that of Will Graham.

Hannibal ran inside and compared the handwriting on the note to the handwriting in the notebooks he had been skimming through. While the handwriting on the writing paper was obviously more hastily written and thus sloppier than usual, it was the same handwriting. What is the meaning of this, he thought. He sat down to compose a proper letter. 

“Dear Mr. Graham,

I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter and current resident of this house. When I arrived at the house, I saw some of the things that you left behind from your previous stay at the house like your fishing lures and the notebooks. However, these items had been obviously left there for quite some time. I would especially love to discuss the notes you left behind regarding what appears to be a mystery novel. If you would like to discuss things, please knock on the door and we can talk. 

Sincerely, Hannibal Lecter” 

He put in the mailbox, pushed down the flag to indicate that there was something inside it, went back inside the house and waited for the mystery man to knock. 

However, there was no knock. However, he had watched the mailbox from the window of the lake house and noticed that the flag of the mailbox was going down. He ran out of the house and opened up the mailbox and found that there was already a response to his letter.

“Dear Dr. Lecter, 

I really don’t understand what’s going on. I did not see you come to the mailbox yet the flag went down and there was your letter. I also noted that you dated your letter December 15, 2008, which is three years from now. I am a rational man who refuses to believe in the supernatural so I would like it if you would stop with this pointless magic show. 

Sincerely, Will Graham”

Hannibal bit his lip then came up with a solution. He went to the study where all the notebooks were and found a page that had a date that was nearly seven months after Will’s stated current rental of the lake house. He hastily wrote a note saying “This is from one of the notebooks the previous tenant left behind and this is a page from it. Please respond if it is one of the pages from your notebook.”

He put it in the mailbox and stood next to the mailbox, feeling strangely excited. If this is truly going back into the past then what we have is a space-time anomaly that is currently stable. If only I could convince a physicist to come and examine this box, he thought. 

It took longer than the previous times but the mailbox flag went down again. Hannibal eagerly opened the mailbox and saw the note:

“I don’t know how you got this but this is in my handwriting. However, I have never heard of the case that it‘s referring to. What is going on?”

Hannibal went inside and carefully constructed the following letter: 

“Dear Mr. Graham,

I can only guess that for some reason there is a stable space-time anomaly that centers on this mailbox. I do not know why that this should be. It would also appear that we are separated by precisely three years in time. I must confess that whatever is causing this phenomenon, I am glad because after looking at some of your notes, I confess to wanting to meet you. I am an avid reader of books regarding both fictional and real-life mysteries. However, few in my social circle have much interest in such things. I can only hope that you would care to continue this correspondence, even if it is to learn more about this anomaly. 

Sincerely, Hannibal Lecter”

***  
Will did not respond until the next day but agreed to continue their correspondence. As it was obvious that neither would be displacing each other, Will’s prickliness and irritation in his letters had decreased dramatically while Hannibal’s curiosity had continued unabated.

A week into their correspondence, Will wrote, 

“Dear Dr. Lecter, 

I must confess that while I accept our current circumstances . . . It puzzles me greatly. I wouldn‘t have left my notes behind. I made my fishing lures by hand, I would be sure to have taken them home with me. 

Sincerely, Will Graham”

While Hannibal ate a breakfast of Eggs Benedict and a glass of orange juice, he wondered how he should respond. After he ate, washed and dried the dishes, he sat down to compose a letter.

“Dear Mr. Graham,

May I call you Will? It feels so formal to continue to call you Mr. Graham. I would also be happy if you were to call me Hannibal instead of Dr. Lecter. Mrs. Komeda did not happen to tell me why you did not rent out the house this year as you did previously. She is currently on vacation so I am unable to reach her at present. I hope that it is not because of reduced financial circumstances.

It may sound rather presumptuous but I am curious to know what you look like. I’d like to be able to match a face to the handwriting. 

Sincerely, Hannibal Lecter”

Later in the afternoon, Hannibal was surprised to have received a Polaroid photo that was developing, partly because he remembered that earlier in the year, Polaroid had announced it was ceasing production of the film for the cameras then remembered that it was 2005 where Will was. Then he looked at the man in the picture.

Despite the scraggly beard, the unflattering eyeglasses and what he considered the poor quality of the photo, Hannibal could see that Will was a handsome man. He turned over the photo to see a little sticker saying “Your turn.”

Hannibal smiled. He didn’t have a Polaroid or a regular camera with him but he did bring his sketchpad and he decided that he would draw a self-portrait. He decided that instead of a simple black-and-white one, he would be sure to add color.

After he was done, he put the sketch in the mailbox.

The next day, Hannibal smiled when he saw that the flag on the mailbox was down. He saw an envelope and opened it to find a note.

“Dear Hannibal, 

Is there anything you can’t do? You said that you’re a surgeon turned psychiatrist yet your handwriting isn’t the usual hieroglyphics I usually find on prescriptions. Now it turns you that you can draw, too? Next, you’ll be telling me that you’re a gourmet cook. 

Sincerely, Will” 

Hannibal had to laugh and laugh at that.

***

Hannibal had brought several medical journals and mystery books with him, hoping to catch up on his reading. However, they fell by the wayside as he concentrated on Will’s notes that he had left behind. He began writing notes and observations in the margins. 

He wrote a note to Will:

“Will,

I have several notebooks and a large number of loose notes by you. Would you like me to send them to you? 

Hannibal”

The next day, Hannibal received a note saying this:

“Hannibal,

I have to confess that I don’t even know if I’m going to take any more cases. My psychiatrist has told me that she recommends that I not do any more field work no matter how hard my boss pushes me to do so. I’m good at solving them but she is worried about my stability. It is no easy matter to try to get into the murderer‘s head and then get out.

The existence of the notes does raise an issue I’m a bit worried about. How can those notes be created in the first place if I don’t write them down? If I don’t take the case or if I accept the notes from you without actually writing them in the first place . . .I’m afraid of creating a temporal paradox that’ll create a rip in the continuum, the kind that can‘t be patched with superglue.

Will”

Hannibal thought about it for a while before writing back.

“Will,

As I’ve said before, I’ve read many of your notes. I’ve taken the liberty of writing a few of my observations and questions in the margins. For every note you actually write, I’ll send you the version of your notes I have that I’ve read and written on with my notes and observations. I can only hope that they help in some slight way if you happen to take the cases. 

God is a strange one indeed for creating tricky choices no matter which decision one makes. However, I firmly believe that any decision you make should be done because you want to do it. 

I must tell you that I am scheduled to go back home on New Year’s Day. However, I will make arrangements with Mrs. Komeda to be here in a few months. You told me that your main occupation is teaching so perhaps you could be here during a spring break?

Hannibal”

He was delighted when Will sent back a note agreeing to taking a week off in April as he had accumulated a lot of vacation time.

***

While winter had been beautiful, covering the area with a blanket of white; spring had touched the area with sun and the melt had made everything green again. Hannibal smiled as he saw that the mailbox already had its flag down. 

“Hannibal,

I saw you at a party a month ago. A friend of mine took me as a plus one. You look just like your sketch. You forgot to tell me that you have an accent, one I rather liked.

Will”

Hannibal was surprised, partly because he knew Will was not the party type and second because he would’ve remembered seeing Will if they had been introduced. 

“Will, 

You must be mistaken. I have a very good memory and I would’ve remembered seeing you before if you had introduced yourself.

Hannibal”

A note came back within the hour.

“Hannibal,

The truth is that I didn’t introduce myself to you because I was afraid that if I had made a bad impression on you then, the you in the present would have avoided me the second you received the first letter I had put in the mailbox.

Will”

Hannibal scowled. It made him fret that he could have already met the man in the flesh years ago.

“Will,

I am sure that nothing you could have done would have changed the already high regard I hold you in. 

Hannibal” 

He knew better than to push for a meeting too strongly as it might make Will skittish but he was starting to wonder when it would ever happen, especially since Will had qualms about the effects on the universe. 

***  
It was during July 4th that Will wrote: 

“Hannibal,

Despite my psychiatrist’s fears, I have decided to take on the case Jack has told me about. I usually don’t work on cases while on vacation but I feel that for a case this hard I need to bounce a few ideas off someone with a very different perspective. You have said previously that you’re not squeamish and are very interested in this type of thing. I can only talk to you about the materials that you’ve already examined. As a psychiatrist and as a former surgeon, I hope that it’s redundant for me to remind you of the need for utmost discretion regarding the information regarding this case.

Will”

Hannibal quickly took out his notepad and quickly wrote a note:

“Will,

I have just arrived at the lake house and am most eager to begin our collaboration. I completely understand the need for my complete cooperation and silence regarding the case. I deeply appreciate and recognize the depth of the trust you have in me. I will do my utmost to help. 

Hannibal”

***  
Hannibal sighed as he wrote a cover letter regarding his findings after a breakfast of French press coffee and a currant scone. He had gone to a local copy shop to make copies of Will’s notes and the notes he had made on them.

“Will,

This is a summary of my findings and speculations so far. The man you are seeking is a lover of beauty and music. He may even feel physical sensations from either performing or at a performance done to his exacting standards bordering on orgasm. He should feel himself to be as perfect as the art he treasures and looks down on any performer who can not match his perfection. He should dress well as he is all about presentation. He is either handsome or believes himself to be. There is a very high probability that he has a job connected with music. Even though he is a man of deep passions, they are narrow in scope and he is not one for emotional entanglements. He should present himself as cool and distant. Whatever friends he makes should be geared towards feeding his ego and keeping him in the lifestyle that he desires.” 

That’s all I can do without pictures of the victims or the crime scenes or other information. 

I feel that I have not helped you very much with my suppositions as they agree with much of what you have already deduced.

Hannibal”

It was after lunch that he got a reply. He was surprised when he found there was more than a letter for him.

“Hannibal,

Actually, I find what you had to say helpful. I feel that I’m not totally going down the wrong path in my investigation. Thank you. 

I’m not very good with gifts but I made you some fishing lures. I know that you do some hunting but I find fishing to have its charms as well. 

Will”

Hannibal found himself touched by the gesture. I shall, he thought, buy him some aftershave balm. It’s time to ask, he thought as he started to write a reply.

“Will, 

As you know, I have no family and I know that you don’t have family either. How about we have Thanksgiving dinner together? I know there is a restaurant called Il Mare that is open on that day and serves excellent seafood. I am not a fan of the usual Thanksgiving fare but if you prefer tradition, I am willing to go somewhere else.

Hannibal”

The next morning, Hannibal opened the mailbox and smiled. 

“Hannibal,

I’ll be there. Il Mare is fine.

Will” 

***  
It was during a masked ball on Halloween thrown by Mrs. Komeda that Hannibal was introduced to Tobias Budge. He initially had little interest in any friend of Franklyn, no matter how effusive his patient was. However, the fact that Tobias owned a music shop pricked his interest. That Tobias was someone that he had a hard time seeing befriending Franklyn other than for material reasons was another thing that stirred his curiosity. Tobias’ costume as a toreador was flawless. Tobias’ intense and obvious pleasure from the aria by the diva hired as entertainment for the night rang bells for Hannibal.

Careful to maintain a polite smile, he could only think of Thanksgiving dinner where he could tell Will about Tobias.

“Is he not fascinating?” said Franklyn.

“Absolutely,” said Hannibal, knowing Will would feel the same way. 

***  
It was past midnight when Hannibal slammed the door as he entered the lake house. He glanced at the answering machine but it showed no missed messages. He sat down and composed a letter. Not only was tonight a wasted night, he felt the four-day weekend was going to be a complete and utter loss as well. 

“Dear Will,

I waited for you at Il Mare from six until closing but you never arrived. I asked my waiter several times if you had called to leave a message that you could not make it but there was no message. There were no messages on the answering machine at the lake house. You can not tell me that you were afraid of destroying the universe because the meeting was to happen in my present time.

If you did not want to meet me, I would have appreciated you saying so. It is not like I asked you on short notice. 

Here is the last thing I will say about the case we’ve been working on if you are brave enough to use it. I believe that Tobias Budge may be the murderer you seek or at least someone you should look up. He is a well-groomed man who owns the Chorodophone String Shop in Baltimore, Maryland. He attends many of the same musical events I do and he fits many of the points of our profile. 

I have no intention of writing you ever again.

Hannibal”

He deposited it in the mailbox and went inside. 

In the morning, he turned on the television to find out what the road conditions were like since the drive back to his house usually took more than three hours. He was about to gather his things when he heard the name “Tobias Budge” come from the television. He turned and stared at the screen. 

The news went on about how he had been arrested for a string of murders and that he may have been responsible for the disappearance of an instructor of the FBI Academy, Will Graham.

He didn’t come to the dinner not because he was afraid but because he had been killed, thought Hannibal. That’s why he had left all his things at the lake house. Hannibal cursed himself for a fool. He hastily drafted a letter.

“Will,

I apologize profusely for what I said in my previous missive. What I have to say right now is very important. You must not go to Tobias’ shop by yourself. I only found out today that your attempt to go after Tobias ended in your death. They have only just arrested the man. 

I entreat you not to go or if you must, go with as many people as you can muster. I can not bear the thought that not only did I help to create this situation but that my last words to you were petty and rude. 

I know you fear disturbing the space-time continuum but I urge you to make an exception this time. I can only believe that this is why we have been able to communicate as we have been doing for the past year, to prevent this very disaster.

I desperately need to know that you did not die shortly after my last letter but that you are still alive even now. Please come to the lake house on New Year’s Eve so I can make proper amends. 

Eternally yours, Hannibal”

Hannibal ran to the mailbox and saw that his previous letter had already disappeared. He might not read this because of the previous letter, he thought. 

He wrote on the other side of the letter and folded it so that it showed: I’m sorry, please, your life depends on you reading this.

He closed the mailbox and waited for the flag to move. He waited and waited but the flag remained still as if to mock him. He had no idea how long it would take for whatever changes that happened in the past to make its way to the present. He also remembered one of Will’s letters explaining a theory about time travel, that instead of changing the original future, it merely caused another parallel future to come into being while the people in the original future were left unaffected.

He had a hard time going to sleep that night with that thought in his head and his insomnia was only made worse by a storm that blew constantly all throughout the night. The morning only made him feel worse when he found the mailbox lying flat, having been tipped over by the wind storm. He frantically did what he could to make it stand again but the box remained empty day after day.

***  
Hannibal had considered taking Will to Il Mare for New Year’s Eve but what happened or precisely what didn’t happen there previously left a bad taste in his mouth. So, he decided to make as impressive a dinner as he could at the lake house. It would also serve the dual purpose of keeping him calm while waiting for him. 

He decided on a lighter version of a lobster pot pie using puff pastry as the main course with the other courses being a mushroom bisque and a mash of potatoes and celery root, blini with caviar, roasted brussel sprouts, and a dessert course of crepes with a sweet citrus cheese filling and cherry sauce. He put the champagne in a bucket of ice to chill it. After he had prepared the food, he put on his coat and waited outside for a sign of Will.

As the sun began to set on New Year’s Eve, Hannibal’s heart began to sink. He’s not coming, he thought. His eyes began to tear up.

It was then that he heard the sound of a car coming up the path to the house. He turned to see it. The car stopped and a man came out.

He was clean shaven and wasn’t wearing glasses but it was definitely Will Graham. “Hannibal?” he said as he smiled and ran up to him.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around him to reassure himself that he wasn’t a vision created by a guilty conscience. “I was worried that you were dead. 

“I got the last letter you sent me where you asked me not to go to Tobias’ shop alone. I went to Jack and asked for back-up. He sent me with Miriam Lass, a student that he had been asking to investigate matters on an off-the-books basis. I couldn’t get back to the lake house before your winter vacation ended because I was in the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

“It turns out that I had a severe case of encephalitis. By the time I was well enough to get back here, the mailbox had stopped working. The only thing I could think to do was meet you here this New Year’s Eve.”

“You forgive me for . . .”

“I’ve had years to get over it,” said Will dryly.

They stood in each other’s arms, just taking in the fact that they had finally met in person. 

“I have been waiting a long, long time for this,” said Will as he learned forward and kissed him.

Hannibal pulled him even closer and their kiss lingered until the sun had fully gone down. 

The End

Epilogue: 

“Dear Hannibal,

I have just received your postcard from Botswana. You have been full of surprises this year. First you have a whirlwind romance, elope while breaking a thousand of your admirers’ hearts and go on a safari honeymoon to see the lions. Now you want to buy the lake house? I am sure that I can be persuaded to sell at the right price but you must tell me how this all came about over one of your delightful dinners. 

Sincerely, Evelyn Komeda

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.deepcreek.com/ is what I was thinking of in terms of location though I used the house from the movie for describing the lake house.
> 
> Will's psychiatrist is Alana but she's not referred to by name.
> 
> I wanted Will to be genre savvy because I always like it when a character knows about the kind of problems certain situations can create and goes out of his way to avoid them. 
> 
> Il Mare is a restaurant from the movie.
> 
> I chose the name Evelyn for Mrs. Komeda. It's not canon.


End file.
